Contrary to enthusiastic reviews that welcomed this album like a masterpiece and brilliant return from self-exposed exile, I always had a gnawing feeling that its a trading of water and very sour worldview from artist who grew bitter and disillusioned with age. Sure, Joni Mitchell never was actually a bundle of joy and even in her gentle, young years she was always a serious, brainy girl who analyzed everything but there was an eye for details and poetry that worked as magic once. As she moved out of pop and towards cryptical lyrics/songs that perhaps signaled artistic growth, the aloofness and coldness towards general audience that might not even follow her in these experiments became more and more prominent. And I ask you, what is the point of art if it does not communicate with audience?
I made a mistake and actually purchased this album - with trepidation, as I couldn't really get my head around several of her recent releases. "The Night Ride Home" was honestly the last Mitchell album I actually loved. Than Grammy awards came along and media hype that confirmed lady in her own opinion that she always was a genius and to hell with audiences. Here she sings about genocide, suicide and state of the world that went down the drain in her opinion, not realizing that she sounds old and puritanical exactly as her mother once was. I listen and listen this album, constantly wondering what is wrong with me because I don't hear "artist at her poetic powers at a peak" but someone who doesn't enjoy life anymore and life is all gloom & doom. It always was, Joni, but the fact is that young artists find the beauty and inspiration in what they see around them while people who are inclined to get depressed will find darkness where others experience the sun. I seriously think that we are under illusion of "serious artistry" because of work done long in the past. Why else her old, classic albums sounds so darn wonderful even today and almost everything after 1980 is just afterthought?
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